


Against Our Terms

by mbe



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Love/Hate, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24919495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mbe/pseuds/mbe
Summary: “You know, my dear Kastro, sometimes it is best to keep one’s questions to themselves.”In which the clown manages to act even more strange than usual, and Kastro is left with more questions than answers.
Relationships: Hisoka/Kastro (Hunter X Hunter)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Against Our Terms

Kastro awakens feeling more fatigued than when he went to sleep.

Eyes still closed, he groans, stretches his arms up over him, and tries to roll over – but finds that he is held in place by…something. Someone.

 _What?_ Eyes shooting open, Kastro manages to turn his head to his left where he is met with the sleeping, but still just as obnoxious, face of Hisoka, whose arm is draped over Kastro’s body like a dead weight. Kastro is furious. Hisoka knew their terms: _they never spent the night at one another’s rooms_. So why the hell…?

Before the silver-haired man can speak up, Hisoka hums and removes his arm, doing the same tired stretching motion as Kastro had. Golden eyes blink awake and scan him over. “Mmm, good morning,” the magician drawls, pressing up closer until his chin rests on Kastro’s shoulder. “I waited so long for you to wake up, I fell back asleep myself.”

Kastro scowls but grabs his phone. 11:02 AM. _Shit._ He’d have normally long since returned from his morning run and be eating lunch by now.

Instead, he’s half-awake (not to mention, _fully naked_ ), in bed with a murderous clown.

“You were supposed to leave last night,” Kastro grits out, trying to throw the covers off and get away from the other man. “Why are you still here, Hisoka?”

“I can’t help it if your bed is so comfortable. And you looked so… _pretty_ , all fucked out and curled up like that.” Hisoka’s eyes flash as he licks his lips. Kastro rolls his eyes but his face flushes nonetheless; _had the magician really just called him ‘pretty’?_

Hisoka grabs Kastro’s wrist before the other man can escape the covers and pulls him down beside him again. Gently – far more gently than Kastro would expect from him – Hisoka begins to thread his fingers through Kastro’s long hair. The magician’s long, pointed nails scrape against Kastro’s scalp and he shivers. He hates that he’s enjoying how _good_ it feels, and he presses himself into the touch unconsciously.

Hisoka leans in and peppers soft kisses just below Kastro’s ear. He chuckles when Kastro jumps at the sudden sensation. “I _love_ how sensitive you are…it always makes these meetings so _enjoyable_.” Kastro doesn’t even bother to try and quiet his whimpering when he feels Hisoka’s other hand wrap around his chest and trail down his toned stomach, before resting down between his legs.

The magician doesn’t say anything, merely humming as he takes Kastro in hand, stroking him to full hardness. He grinds his hips against Kastro’s backside and buries his face in the man’s long hair; Kastro finds himself thrusting into the red-haired man’s firm grip, trying to urge him on just a bit faster, and he shuts his eyes, momentarily lost in pleasure.

“Relax…I always take care of you, don’t I?” Hisoka’s voice is disgustingly sweet with fake sincerity, his hand not slowing down in the least, but Kastro can’t say he’s wrong. “You’re so…pretty, like this.”

Something about the word leaving Hisoka’s lips for the second time this morning makes heat pool in Kastro’s core; he comes with a groan, head leaning back onto Hisoka’s shoulder while the magician continues to stroke him through his orgasm. He finally lets up, shamelessly wiping his hand on the bedsheets before pressing an entirely too-tender kiss to Kastro’s cheek.

Kastro only comes back to reality when he shifts in his now-soiled covers and grimaces. He shoots a glare at Hisoka, who has finally sat up and is starting to pull on his clothes; Kastro has the sense that the man made him make a mess of the sheets on purpose. Annoyed but not deterred, Kastro jerks the covers off of himself and heads wordlessly for the shower.

“Do you want company?” Hisoka calls after him.

“I want you to go back to your own room.” Kastro clenches his jaw.

“Oh, don’t be like that, now.”

Kastro doesn’t answer but opts to slam the door to the bathroom shut – going so far as to lock it – and immediately turning on the water and hopping in. He tries to let the heat and sensations wash away the dirty, shameful thoughts he’s grappling with – the fact that the damned magician has made him come not once but twice in the last 12 hours – but is interrupted by the shower curtain being yanked open and Hisoka letting himself in.

“What the hell are you – get out!” Kastro is furious now, shampoo running in his eyes and making them sting like all hell. Hisoka is unfazed.

“I’d have done as you asked and left, but…you made a bit of a mess of my hand, you see.” He smiles and holds up his still-sticky, cum-covered palm, placing it under the stream of water. Kastro’s face flushes deeper than before, and he finally turns his back to the other man.

“Fine. Whatever. I’m almost done here anyway…”

When Kastro steps out and begins toweling himself off, he hears a knock at the door. Quickly pulling on a bathrobe, Kastro hesitantly opens it and is met with a too-cheerful Heavens Arena employee with a cart full of food.

Or rather, _desserts._ Pretty much every single cake, pie, and ice cream sundae imaginable is laid out on neat little trays before the smiling woman, who pushes her way past Kastro and into the room.

“Here you go, sir!” She smiles. “Although, we were a little surprised all this was coming up to _your_ room.” The woman winks at him. “I won’t tell anyone about your little cheat day, don’t worry.” Kastro can’t think of anything to say and stares open-mouthed as the woman leaves, just as Hisoka is stepping out of the shower, nude except for the towel around his neck.

“Can’t you ever put on clothes?” Kastro snaps, walking past him and into his kitchen. “And why would you order all this crap to my room?” He motions to the trays of junk food; Hisoka merely giggles. He returns to the bedroom and thankfully comes back fully clothed, taking one of the cakes from the carts and sitting down on the couch. Kastro rolls his eyes and opens his fridge, looking for some semblance of real food.

Hisoka makes himself at home, ignoring Kastro’s earlier request to leave, and flips on the television, where an empty Heavens Arena ring flashes onscreen. “ _Time is up and Hisoka the Magician has failed to show for his match! This means he has forfeited an almost certain win and –_ “

Kastro looks at him curiously. “You had a match this morning?”

Hisoka says nothing, picking away at his food. Kastro presses further. “Why did you miss it? You’re up to three losses now, aren’t you?”

The magician doesn’t look at Kastro, but puts his cake down on the table and suddenly stands up. “You know, my dear Kastro, sometimes it is best to keep one’s questions to themselves.” He runs his fingers through his still-damp hair. “I have my secrets and I presume you have yours.” Hisoka gives Kastro what can only be described as a predatory look, and the silver-haired man isn’t sure what to make of the words.

“Perhaps at our final match I’ll let you in on some of mine.”

With that, Hisoka sashays off to the door, wiggling his fingers in a childish form of a good-bye wave. “It was a pleasure, as always.” He grins gleefully at Kastro, opens the door, and walks into the hallway without so much as a look back.

Kastro is left momentarily dumbfounded at what had just taken place this morning. The unexpected (and out of place) cuddling session in bed, of course, was part of it…but he can’t help but replay Hisoka’s response to missing the match once more: _“I have my secrets and I presume you have yours.”_

Kastro knows that their ‘relationship’ – if one could even call it that – is most certainly unorthodox, and despite the shame he often feels from it, he is far from wanting it to end. Perhaps he enjoys it more than he is willing to admit to anyone, including himself. And perhaps that is why Kastro doesn’t fight back when the magician pulls his strange little stunts.

Like cuddling him in bed rather than beating another stranger to a pulp.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a line at m3v3.tumblr.com!


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